


Luck of the Irish

by Stella_Malodi



Series: Silly Words for the Silly Soul(mate fic) [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fed-Up Avengers, Fluff and Crack, Kidnapping, Oblivious Darcy Lewis, Rescue, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Shy Steve Rogers, Sneaky Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Soulmate-Identifying Marks, St. Patrick's Day, Steve Rogers is Bad With Women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Malodi/pseuds/Stella_Malodi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Or: In Which Steve Is A Dork And Darcy Wears A "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" T-Shirt)</p>
<hr/>
<p>Darcy had asked around about the Captain's strange behavior, but no one would give her a satisfactory answer. Even JARVIS had only hesitated, then said that he was “not allowed to discuss or speculate on the romantic lives of the tower’s residents.” Which… what? What did that have to do with the price of cheese in Sokovia? When she’d said as much, JARVIS had sighed, but otherwise remained stubbornly silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck of the Irish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ardonenher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardonenher/gifts).



> Wouldja look at that? I wrote a ShieldShock fic! It's been a while, huh? :P Happy (early) St. Patrick's Day! 
> 
> This one uses Ardonenher's prompt: "Steve having a soulmark saying 'Rescue now, Kiss later '."
> 
> Friendly Reminder: In this Soulmate AU, everyone is born with a tattoo of the first words their Soulmate will say to them. Showing or telling anyone what it says is a big taboo.

Steve Rogers was horrible with women—a fact so well established that it had made it into documentaries, memoirs, and even the occasional history book.

It was also not _entirely_ true. Well—it was incomplete. Touring with the USO girls had rid him of most of his awkwardness, and taught him how to talk to women in general without making a fool of himself. It was only when it mattered—when he was trying to talk to a dame he _liked_ —that his foot found its way back into his mouth.

Steve tended to keep his distance from the women he wanted to get close to.

 

* * *

 

The first time Steve saw Darcy Lewis, she was sleeping on the couch in the Avenger’s common area, and he thought that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

After a good minute of staring at her, he rushed to his room, dug out his sketchbook, and returned, only to find that she was gone. If it hadn’t been for JARVIS, he might have thought he’d imagined her.

The second time he saw her, she was in one of the labs adjacent to Stark’s, and she was laughing. He knew, then, that he’d been wrong before— _this_ was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Of course, then Stark caught him staring and started to cackle.

 

* * *

 

Something was rotten in the Tower of Stark.

Well, perhaps not _rotten_ , but definitely strange.

Darcy kept catching glimpses of Captain America.

It was the weirdest thing. She’d be in the lab, helping Jane to Science! or reminding her that humans need nutrition and sleep or they would die, and she’d look over her shoulder and he would just _be_ there, standing in the hallway… and apparently staring at her. Which was _weird_.

She’d been wanting to meet him, though, so she’d quickly disengage from whatever she was doing, intending to introduce herself… only to find that he was already gone.

Sometimes she’d be in the common room, hanging out with Nat or mocking bad movies with Tony, and she’d glance at the doorway… and there he was. She’d glance away, sometimes just in the process of _getting up_ , but by the time she looked back, he’d be _gone_.

She’d tried asking people about it, but no one would give her a satisfactory answer. Jane hadn’t even _noticed_. Thor patted her shoulder, smiled, and told her that “Steven will speak with you in his own time,” whatever _that_ meant. Bruce had flushed and changed the subject. Natasha would pout and mutter what Darcy suspected were Russian insults. Clint stuck to the classics of distraction: a look of shock and/or horror, a finger pointing at something behind her, and a gasped, “What’s _that?!”_ before making his escape. (It was the sort of thing that _should_ only work once, but there was _actually_ something there often enough that she looked every time.) Tony just cackled and shook his head. Darcy had even asked _JARVIS_ , who had hesitated, then said that he was “not allowed to discuss or speculate on the romantic lives of the tower’s residents.” Which… what? What did that have to do with the price of cheese in Sokovia? When she’d said as much, JARVIS had sighed, but otherwise remained stubbornly silent.

This pattern of frustration and confusion continued until March 17th. Apparently, her lucky taser, her lucky shirt, and the luck o’ the Irish were not enough to prevent her kidnapping.

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean, ‘she’s been taken?’”

 

* * *

 

Steve battled his way into the facility where she was being held. It wasn’t long before Natasha got JARVIS into their systems; after that, it was just a matter of following directions. When he finally got to the cell where they were keeping Darcy, he found her sitting on a cot, twiddling her thumbs.

She was a little bruised; they hadn’t been careful with her, but he could see no obvious signs of serious injury. For the first time since he’d learned of her abduction, he felt like he could breathe again.

JARVIS opened the door; at the sound of it, she stood and turned to face him. He looked her over from head to toe, examining her more closely for any injuries he might have missed, but his eyes caught on the green words emblazoned across her chest. It startled a laugh from him.

“If that’s a legitimate reason for kissing a person,” he said without thinking, “then I think you should know that my parents were both Irish immigrants.”

Her eyebrows shot up and he blushed. Before he could apologize, though, she said, “Rescue now, kiss later.”

At his dumbfounded look, she nodded, smirked slightly, and dragged him into the hall. “Rescue now,” she repeated, “kiss later.”

He shook his head to clear it. “Right. Rescuing. I can do that.”

“And kissing?”

He paused, and looked down at her. He held her gaze until the teasing light in her eyes had changed to something else, watched as the blood rushed to her cheeks and her breathing sped up slightly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “I can do that, too.”

 

* * *

 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s later now.”

**Author's Note:**

> A great big "thank you" and a barrel of hugs to everyone who reads, kudos, comments, and bookmarks these fics! :) I know I don't reply (because I am an awkward rabbit who stresses over what to say and how to say it), but I read and love every single one of your comments!
> 
> If you've got something you'd like to see, leave a prompt! It might not be soon, but we _will_ get to it.
> 
> Last thing! I'm pretty sure I know the answer, but... would you guys be interested in seeing an extra scene/epilogue? I had two options for where to end this, and I decided that this one worked better, but I think I could expand the other ending bit into a full scene.


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